


that’s just what the cold really is

by stop_breaking_my_heart_telltale



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling, Don’t ask why because I don’t know what this is either, F/F, Forehead Kisses, It's cold outside, Sometimes I wake up at one o’clock in the morning to drink some tea and write a briolet oneshot, brody wants to go on a road trip, brody's alive, clouis is mentioned, everyone lives au, i'm briolet trash and i've accepted it, kind of a mini-character study of violet? i dunno, sharing a blanket, violet can't sleep, violet is still missing an eye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28821555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stop_breaking_my_heart_telltale/pseuds/stop_breaking_my_heart_telltale
Summary: "Maybe cold nights exist as a reason to drawer people closer to one another, to seek and feel the natural warmth only they could provide. Except what does that mean for those who are cold but lonely? Maybe that’s just what the cold really is, Violet thinks.Loneliness. Huh. "---Brody and Violet cuddle on the couch.
Relationships: Brody/Violet (Walking Dead: Done Running)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	that’s just what the cold really is

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I wake up at one o’clock in the morning to drink some tea and write a briolet oneshot. 
> 
> Don’t ask why because I don’t know what this is either.

Frost kisses the glass, starting from the wooden frame and spreading across the window. Violet stares past the ice, allowing her mind to clear itself, content to exist and be. How long has she sat there, cross-legged on her desk, watching the stillness of the night? Who knows. Long enough for her nose to become cold enough it stung to breathe through it.

Pressing a finger against the foggy glass, Violet glides it across to draw two eyes and a smile. Dumb and lopsided, she thinks, before smearing away one of the eyes. 

With a sigh, Violet climbs off the desk, stiff muscles wincing as her bare feet hit the hardwood floors, so cold it almost hurts to walk. 

Another sleepless night in the beginnings of winter, not an unusual occurrence these days. Not when thoughts of the undead and loved ones long lost haunt the most inner workings of her mind, and not when the cold irritates her eye to the point where she could just rub it better. 

If only she could put some pressure on it, warm it up enough to be uncomfortably comfortable, but the healing process for the loss of an eyeball is apparently a long and agonizing one. Possibly more so than the actual removal itself, though that’s debatable-- Violet doesn’t have nightmares about healing.

No, these days she still has nightmares about a cell much colder than her dorm, about disfigured faces holding her down as she struggles, spitting more curses than pleas. Lilly’s smug voice echoes in her ear from far away and a woman with a cold, dead stare hovers over her, knife in hand as she commands her to stay still.

Violet reaches her arm out to grab the bar belonging to the top bunk of her bed, the metal cold enough to burn her fingertips. She lets her hand drag along it as she makes her way closer to the door. She wouldn’t want to accidentally walk too close and stub her toe again. 

The hallway’s just as dark and still, and it occurs to her that it might be dangerous to walk around here barefoot. Sure, the school’s clearer than it’s ever been thanks to Ruby putting her foot down about everyone being a bunch of pigs, but that doesn’t mean Violet won’t step on a missed piece of glass or a tracked in rock. 

Does that scare her enough to turn around and head back into the forlorn darkness of her dorm to try and get some sleep? 

Violet makes it down the hall with ease, keeping a hand dragging along to wall to steady her. Not that she really needs to do that. It’s not like she’s completely blind. She still has one eye that’s as good as new, but having only one good eye makes for some poor depth perception most of the time. 

The outside chill cuts right through the thin material of her shirt, sinking down into her bones to bring involuntary tremors through her limbs. Rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm them, she ventures into the yard, setting her sight on the stairs leading into the admin building. 

She doubts anyone will be in the music room tonight, though she is a little hopeful that Louis might be there. She’d enjoy a song or two tonight, she thinks. He could always was make her laugh, and perhaps that’s what she needed right now. 

Louis has his fair share of sleepless nights, and like her, he wanders out here to the music room. Work out frustrations by ‘tickling the ivories,’ as he puts it, or to comfort himself after a bad dream. Violet just hopes that if he’s here tonight that he’s alone. While she enjoys the company of both Louis and Clementine, the two of them being in there together at this time of night probably wouldn’t be the most innocent outing. Violet’s lone eye can only unsee so many things. 

“Jesus,” she curses. A particularly harsh gust of wind nearly knocks her down as she climbs the stairs. “Yeah, great, thanks for that.”

Well, if they _are_ in there together, at least they aren’t freezing their asses off. 

Violet glares up at the sky, wrinkling her nose at the thought. 

Hell, even if they’re both back at the dorms, they’re still warmer together than Violet is out here by herself. Everyone who remains in their bed is warmer than her. Probably. 

Her face softens, gaze falling down to the steps beneath her. 

Maybe cold nights exist as a reason to drawer people closer to one another, to seek and feel the natural warmth only they could provide. Except what does that mean for those who are cold but lonely? Maybe that’s just what the cold really is, Violet thinks. 

Loneliness. Huh. 

Shit.

Maybe it’s her pride or the fact that she’s never felt weaker than she has the past six or so months after escaping the delta’s clutch, leaving her eye with them. Fronting that she’s tougher than she really is made her feel better, acting as though she’s content being alone or that she doesn’t need to rely on others for help even if she knows it’s bullshit.

Doing this always bit her in the ass on nights just like this one. 

It’s silent within the admin building, so it’s safe to conclude that Louis isn’t here. 

She’d never admit her disappointment aloud, but that doesn’t stop the feeling from tugging at her gut. She really hoped he’d be here, hoped they could talk for a while. For as loud and obnoxious as Louis could be, he could listen just as well, be just as quiet and sincere. It’s stupid now to think that she once thought him incapable of serious, deep conversation, not that she ever gave him much of a chance. Not that he gave her much of a chance, either. 

Just a couple of dumbasses, she thinks. Oh well.

Violet turns the corner to see the door to the music room wide open, inviting her in. Moonlight leaks in through the curtain slits, reflecting off the floor and the old piano. Strangely, it doesn’t feel as cold in here. At least, not as much as it is outside, or even in the hallway. 

She approaches the piano, contemplating if she should sit down. She has no idea how to play, nor does she have any desire to. Resting a hand on the worn-out wood, she curiously admires the inner workings of the piano with all its strings and doohickeys. 

Louis offered to teach her once, and she told him that piano music sucks. He never made another offer. 

“Vi?” 

Violet nearly jumps a foot in the air. 

Whipping around, she finds Brody curled up on the couch with a thin blanket over her leg and a mug in hand, wide eyes gazing up at her. 

“Shit, sorry,” Brody apologizes, setting her mug on the table beside the armrest. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Just didn’t think you saw me and I didn’t want to be, well, creepin’ over here without ya knowin.’” 

Violet presses a hand against her frantic heart, taking a deep breath and nodding. 

“No, yeah, definitely didn’t see you. Y’know,” she motions to the patch over her eye, “blind spot.” 

Brody seems to stiffen up, but gives an unsure nod, face falling as she glances down at her hands. She stretches out her legs, making like she’s going to stand but changes her mind. 

Violet frowns, silently scolding herself. 

“What’re you doin’ up?” Brody finally asks. 

Violet gives a halfhearted shrug. 

“Can’t sleep. Obviously.”

“Your eye?” 

“Among other things.”

Brody nods once more, and Violet can’t help but stare at her, even though Brody can probably feel it. Even from here, and with her vision impairment, Brody’s scare is harshly prominent against her more delicate features. Right above her brow, long and discolored now, fully healed. 

Violet almost scoffs aloud. Fucking Marlon. She hopes he’s freezing his ass off living down in the old train station now. After what he did to Brody, after finding out what he did to Minnie and Sophie, they kicked him out of Ericson. And even after everything with the raiders, after Marlon helped them escape the boat before it exploded, he’s still not welcome here. 

Well, more so _Marlon_ decided it’d be in everyone’s best interest if he didn’t live at Ericson anymore, instead settling in the train station so that he was close enough if they ever needed him. Everyone agreed, even Louis. That was a surprise, but he agreed that Marlon being here with them wouldn’t work anymore, and maybe knowing where Marlon was and that he was safe helped Louis be content with the decision. 

Violet’s just glad she doesn’t have to see him every day, and that he’s far away from Brody, but even gone he’s left marks all over this school... all over Brody’s face. 

“What about you?” Violet asks to break the awkward pause. “Can’t sleep either?”

“Nah,” Brody finally looks at her, tucking a wild strand of hair behind her ear. Bedhead, Violet thinks. Funny. “Tossin’ and turnin’ don’t suit me. If I’m gonna be awake, I might as well be outta bed and doin’ something.” 

“Something like sitting in the dark like a weirdo?”

That gets a small smile from Brody. 

“Yeah, somethin’ like that,” she says. “Just wanted some tea and a change of scenery. Wasn’t expecting company...” she trails off, but keeps her gaze on Violet as she quietly adds, “but it’s a welcome surprise.”

Violet almost smiles despite herself, having to bite the inside of her cheek. 

Ever since they lost the twins, things have been rocky with Brody. After Clementine and AJ showed up, Violet felt for the first time in a so long that her friendship with Brody was salvageable, that maybe they could be close again. Clementine forced her to see what was really bothering her about Brody and why things were so shitty between them, and Violet found herself wanting to fix it. 

Then the truth Marlon and Brody were hiding from them came out, and Violet was beyond pissed. Even with Brody lying in bed, bandages wrapped around her head and her skin sticky and pale, Violet hated her. 

Yeah, hated her. Hated her for lying to her face for over a year, for keeping that secret to hide her and Marlon’s guilt, for trying to grow close with her knowing what she had done. 

Violet never fathomed that she’d ever forgive Brody, but then Brody healed and could explain everything. 

Then the raiders attacked, and she and Brody were taken away, forced to share a cell on the raider’s boat. When Violet failed to cooperate, and they... well, Brody was the one to hold her, sob into her shoulder from within that cell. 

Suddenly, a lot of things didn’t seem to matter anymore. 

“You want some tea?” Brody offers, holding up her own mug. “It’s minty.”

“No, no...” Violet shakes her head, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. 

“It’ll warm ya up. Can see ya shakin’ from over here.”

“Maybe I like the cold.”

“No one likes the cold.”

“Maybe I do.”

Brody rolls her eyes, throwing the blanket off and standing. Over by the fireplace, she lights a match to ignite her makeshift warmer to boil more water. 

Violet abandons the piano, finding a place on the opposite side of the couch as Brody wanders about the room, humming to herself. She comes back with another blanket, this one heavier. Violet accepts gratefully, covering her body up to her chin.

Brody hands her to streaming mug, the scent of warm mint clearing her senses. Violet can’t help but groan after taking a sip, the heat spreading through her body. 

“Good?”

“It’s okay,” Violet lies. ”I guess.”

Brody smiles. Violet wonders how close she’ll sit now that she’s here, but Brody doesn’t move to do so. Instead, she grabs one of the candles off the piano, flicking a match to light it. Violet raises a brow up at her, which Brody meets with a playful shrug. 

“it’s cold,” she says simply, setting the candle down on the small round table. 

Violet can’t help it. She laughs. That makes Brody smile. 

Her laughter dies when the couch dips with Brody’s weight beside her. 

“C’mon,” Brody grins, tugging at the comforter. “Don’t be a hog.”

Violet doesn’t bother putting up a fight, lifting the blanket to let Brody scoot closer. Shoulder to shoulder, they get comfortable. 

“Y’know what I miss?” Brody asks. 

“Summer?”

“No-- well, actually yes, I do miss summer, but that’s not what I was gonna say,” she brings her long legs us, tucking them beneath her. This makes her lean more into Violet and it takes all her concentration to not spill hot tea over her hands. “I was thinkin’ that I miss jerky.”

“Jerky?”

“Yeah. I used to go on these trips once a year with my dad to see my grandpa. Was always just to two of us, and we’d be on the road for hours, but we’d stop at this gas station-- the same one every time, and he’d get us these long sticks of spicy jerky that you could barely chew without feelin’ like ya were gonna break a tooth.”

“Gross,” Violet wrinkles her nose. “Ever break a tooth?”

“Nah, not really. Sure made my jaw sore by the time I was finished, though. Take ya about an hour to get through the whole thing properly. But Daddy said that was the point. Ya gotta chew it long enough to get all the flavor outta it, otherwise, it’s just a waste.” 

“He couldn’t’ve brought you a hotdog or something?”

“You ever have a hotdog from a gas stop?” Brody makes a gagging noise. “Wouldn’t be surprised if those things were made of roadkill off the highway.” 

“How’s that any different than what we eat now?” Violet asks, teasing. “It’s just in stew form instead.”

“I’ll tell him you compared his famous stew to flea-bitten roadkill.” 

“Do it,” Violet challenges with a smirk, setting her tea aside. “I can take him.”

Brody snorts out a laugh, hand flying up to cover her mouth to muffle the outburst, managing an, “Oh god,” out. 

Once Brody gets a hold of herself, Violet says, “Never had jerky like that. Though I didn’t go on many road trips.” 

“We could go on one,” Brody suggests lightly, nudging her. “Get away from here, go find a beach somewhere and sit in the sun.”

“Only if I get to drive.” 

Brody, a soft smile tugging at her lips, wraps an arm around Violet’s shoulders to pull her close, gently rubbing more heat into her arm.

Despite the heaviness in Violet’s stomach, it flutters at the feeling of her body pressed against Brody’s. She hesitates, but eventually leans into the warmth of her side, resting her head in the crook of Brody’s neck while slipping her arms around her waist. 

“Can’t tell anyone we’re goin,’ though,” Brody mumbles. “I’m not spending days in a car with Louis and his singalongs.”

“Twenty-five bottles of beers on the wall, twenty-five bottles of beer-”

“Oh god.”

“-take one down--”

“No!”

“-pass it around-”

Brody’s hand presses over Violet’s mouth to silence her, all while the both of them laugh together. For the first time that night, Violet doesn’t feel a single chill prick at her skin. She pulls Brody’s hand from her face, holding it in her own. When Brody doesn’t pull away, she takes a risk in lacing their fingers together. 

Brody squeezes her hand back in approval. 

The laughter dies down. Brody pulls the blanket closer over them, and together they sit for a while. 

Just as Violet’s eye begins to droop shut, the fatigue finally hitting her, Brody’s lips press against her forehead. Violet thinks to turn her head up to kiss Brody back, _really_ kiss her, but doesn’t.

Too tired, too comfortable, too warm. 

Violet allows sleep to take her. 


End file.
